


Maid Just for You

by parasolghost



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, Jealousy, M/M, Maids, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, sort of???, they're at the culture festival that's all you need to know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 01:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11818215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parasolghost/pseuds/parasolghost
Summary: Ryuji goes to class 2-D's maid cafe and gets a huge surprise. Well, the fact that Akira looks absolutely killer in a maid outfit isn't the surprise. It's just that he's wearing it. Publicly.Ryuji owes Ann the best friend award.





	Maid Just for You

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. This sure is porn. Yup. Not much else to say except I'm sure this has been done before.
> 
> Thanks to my good bro [Eth](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally) for being my beta for this!! It was rly embarrassing to go through the edits afterwards but I'm alive and I appreciate it a lot!!

Being at the school festival didn’t feel right to Ryuji—surrounded by excited people, rainbow streamers, and cheerful vibes—when he was just slumped on the floor against the wall by the school entrance.

People walked around him, giving him strange looks before moving along, but Ryuji didn’t really care about that. He was busy frowning at the message on his phone.

**> Sorry I can’t hang out today. Something came up and I need to fill in for my class’ booth.  
>I’ll make it up to you. I promise.**

It was fine. Whatever. Ryuji should have been used to disappointment at this point. It’s just that he wasn’t really expecting _Akira_ of all people to be the source of it. Ryuji had kind of been looking forward to having a date with him at the school festival—winning contest prizes for Akira, holding his hand when no one was looking, shielding Akira bravely in the haunted house (probably a pipe dream—that guy probably feared nothing—but hey, let Ryuji dream).

Ryuji groaned and scratched his head. He was being stupid. It’s not like Akira planned this on purpose or anything. Besides, he should use the free time to go hang out with his other friends or something.

Well, okay not Makoto—she was doing student council stuff. Sure, he was bored, but like hell if he was gonna let her do grunt work for the festival.

Haru was a no-go, too. She was helping out with her class’ booth and Ryuji didn’t wanna bother her or bring any negative attention to her. Everyone already looked at her kind of weird—he didn’t want someone as nice as Haru to have to go through that at school, too.

Ryuji would have probably gone to either Yusuke or Futaba as his next options, but Yusuke had to run back to his own school. Futaba had decided not to come. Probably for the best considering her thing with crowds.

Morgana? Oh hell no. God help them if they were to ever hang out by themselves.

So all that was left was...

Before Ryuji could even finish his thought, something heavy smacked the top of his head. Ryuji let out a yelp and rubbed his head. When he turned to look up, he saw Ann staring down at him with a smug expression, holding a thick roll of fliers over her shoulder.

“Hey! What the hell was that for?” he growled.

Ann took a seat next to him against the wall, unfurling the fliers over her lap. “You looked really dazed—I thought I’d snap you out of it.”

“You didn’t have to hit me,” Ryuji said, rubbing his head.

“Oh, come on it wasn’t even that hard!” Ann said, rolling her arms.

Ryuji frowned at her, folding his arms over his chest and slouching against the wall. “You’re the worst friend ever.”

Ann nudged Ryuji with her elbow. “Aw, don’t be such a sore sport—would the ‘worst friend ever’ give you…” With a fancy flourish of her hand, Ann whipped out a paper in front of Ryuji’s so fast that it hit him in the nose. “This?”

Ryuji squinted at the paper and his expression fell blank. “Yes,” he responded. “It’s just a flier for your class’ stupid maid café.”

“Hey, I resent that—it’s a great maid café!”

“Dude, it’s deserted.”

Ann smirked and shook her finger at him. “Not anymore! See, we made some adjustments to our business plan this morning—we’ve been fully booked ever since,” she said with a triumphant look. Ryuji felt kind of bad that he couldn’t buy into her enthusiasm and just gave her a forced smile. Ann tapped his knee gently with the roll of fliers. “Get more excited, Ryuji. We have a full house but I’m offering you an exclusive seat if we leave in the next,” she looked quickly at her phone, “five minutes.”

Ryuji groaned as Ann stood up and began to tug him to his feet. “Dude, I just kind of wanna go home—I already spent money at your class’ booth anyway.”

“Well, spend some more!” Ann urged him. “ _Trust_ _me_ , you don’t want to miss out on this! Especially after all the trouble I went to asking the class rep to save a seat for a friend.”

Ryuji frowned, running a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he finally said, letting Ann drag him by the arm up the stairs. Well, he wasn’t going to do anything else anyway. Besides, Akira might be around if he wasn’t cooking for the café or something. Although, if the shop was crowded, Ryuji guessed he probably wouldn’t get a break. The thought made Ryuji feel all disappointed again.

As soon as they got up to the second floor, Ryuji could hear the chatter and excitement from a line that stretched all the way out of Akira and Ann’s classroom door. The crowd made Ryuji feel alert again as he looked around, apologizing to the glaring students as Ann pushed past the crowd into the classroom.

Ann lead Ryuji to a table and pushed him down into the chair. “Okay, just wait right here,” Ann said, putting her finger up to stop Ryuji’s protests before he could even speak. “Just _trust_ me. The waitress will be with you in a moment.”

“What do I even order? I thought you guys didn’t have any food!”

Ann just waved at him. “It doesn’t matter—just hold on.” She gave him a little finger waggle and then bounced away towards one of the maid girls at the cash box in the front of the classroom. Ryuji let out an indignant huff, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets and slouching in his seat, looking around the room.

Just as Ann had described it, each table was filled, with people who weren’t even _eating_ —they were just sitting at the table looking in the direction of a tall female student waiting a table of bug-eyed first year boys, their food growing cold on their tables. Ryuji squinted. That was weird—the girl didn’t look like anyone Ryuji recognized. Sure, it wasn’t like he was the most social guy or anything obviously, but he’d _definitely_ remember someone like that. She was taller than all of the girls in their school, with long legs and long, curly black hair. She was objectively pretty, even though Ryuji was only looking at her from the back. He could tell.

The girl turned on her heel and Ryuji looked away sheepishly down at the menu that was on his table. He didn’t want to look like he was staring or anything. He tried to focus on reading the menu, which only consisted of several crossed out items and takoyaki. Is this why Ann wanted him to come? That’s weird—it’s not like Ann didn’t know about his relationship with Akira or anything.

“What can I get for you today, Master?”

At the sound of the smooth, familiar voice, Ryuji’s head jerked up to look at the maid so fast that he was kind of surprised his neck didn’t snap. The maid was looking down at him with a cool smile on soft-looking lips. Even behind the glasses, Ryuji could make out the long eyelashes that cast shadows on the maid’s cheek when they blinked and incredibly hot smolder on the maid’s face.

There was no mistake—Ryuji was looking into the eyes of his boyfriend, Akira Kurusu.

As the realization fully dawned on him, Ryuji’s face flushed bright red and his mouth fell open. “A-Akira?” he spluttered. “Dude, what are you doing?”

“Being a maid,” Akira answered so simply and innocently that Ryuji thought _he_ was the one being weird. “Ann insisted that I take over for her today and, honestly, it’s been fun. I looked at myself in the mirror six times in the past half hour. I give myself a ten out of ten.”

Ryuji wholeheartedly agreed, but he was too distracted to reply. Where was he supposed to look in this situation? Avoiding eye contact meant looking at the maid outfit, which only made Ryuji more flustered. He tried looking at his face in general, but his eyes kept falling to the natural pout of Akira’s bottom lip, which was _definitely_ a no-go for him in public.

So Ryuji just looked Akira straight in the eye and gulped. Was he just imagining that heated look in Akira’s eyes or was it just plain _hot_ in here?

“Be honest with me,” Akira said, as if he didn’t notice Ryuji’s silence and distress. “What do _you_ think? Too much?”

Yes? No? A little bit of both? Ryuji struggled for a moment to think of an appropriate answer before opening his mouth.

“I—uh. Hah,” he said eloquently. Nailed it.

“I see,” Akira said with a smirk.

“I-I mean, you look great!” Ryuji corrected himself quickly. “I mean, you, uh—“

“I…?” Akira said, a mischevious smile curling onto his lips.

Ryuji groaned and buried his face in his hands, trying not to blush even harder as he heard Akira chuckle in front of him. “Don’t mess with me like that, dude!”

“Sorry, sorry—it was just really funny,” Akira said, waving his hand. “Okay, for real this time—is there anything you want?”

Ryuji ran a hand through his hair and took a deep sigh to siphon the heat away from his face. He gave Akira a small smile. “I guess I’ll just have the takoyaki again? That’s the only thing you have, right?”

“Sure thing, _Master_ ,” Akira said, rolling his tongue around the last word. Ryuji automatically felt his face flush again when Akira sent him another smirk. “And also—“

“Akiko-chan!” called another patron from the other side of the room.

Akira looked behind him for a moment before turning back to Ryuji with a wink that made Ryuji’s breath catch in his throat. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, no worries, dude,” Ryuji said, feeling a weird mix of both disappointment and relief as Akira left, his maid dress bouncing around his legs. Ryuji closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He owed Ann a _huge_ thank you.

Ryuji waited for Akira with his chin resting in his hands, a goofy grin plastered on his face. Even in the maid outfit, Akira was still as attentive interacting with the other customers as he always was. Akira didn’t know it—or at least Ryuji thought he didn’t—but Ryuji liked watching Akira when he wasn’t looking. Although Akira wasn’t particularly talkative or easy to read, Ryuji was starting to learn how to read the little changes in his expression. When his lips quirked up slightly in a smile or when he tilts his head or even when he gives a slight nod that tells you he’s listening. It made Ryuji all the more thrilled when Akira turned to him and started to express himself a little more openly—like it was a secret only between him and Akira.

Right now in particular, Akira looked really cute in the little maid outfit as he took orders and bustled around the classroom with tiny trays of takoyaki. There might have been one or two other maid waitresses in class 2-D, but Ryuji only had eyes for Akira.

Actually, come to think of it, it seemed like _all_ eyes were on Akira.

The realization made Ryuji frown as his enamored tunnel vision came face to face with the reality of the situation. Boys and girls alike stole glances or even openly stared at the beautiful dark-haired maid as Akira took orders. When Akira was waiting on people, the customers would flutter their eyelashes or smirk with a cocky confidence that made Ryuji’s blood begin to boil.

“What did that menu ever do to you?”

The sound of Ann standing right next to him snapped Ryuji’s attention away from the jeering crowds. Ann placed the takoyaki in front of Ryuji and quirked her eyebrow at him, gaze dropping to Ryuji’s hand on top of the table.

Ryuji hadn’t even noticed that he had the flimsy paper menu crumpled up tightly in his fist. Damn, he Ryuji wasn’t the type of person to be possessive or jealous or anything like that. Sure, he had his pride just like any other man, but not like this.

There was just something that really pissed him off about the way people were suddenly looking at Akira when they normally avoided him in the halls. It wasn’t like Akira was suddenly super hot just because he dressed up like this—Akira had always been hot. But now just because he had some pretty wig on and a cute outfit they were gonna play him like this. Ryuji tried to calm himself down and relax the glare that he was probably giving the unknowing peepers, wiping away the nagging thought that kept plaguing his mind: he saw Akira first.

Feeling embarrassed, he quickly unclenched his fist and tried to flatten the menu out hastily on the table. “My bad,” Ryuji said sheepishly, looking back up at Ann.

Ann put her hand on her hip and rested her weight on one leg. She opened her mouth to speak, but Ryuji got distracted by a short scene behind her. Some asshole with a sleazy grin reached out towards Akira as he was setting something down. Ryuji rose slightly to his feet just as Akira bat his hand away with a cool expression.

“Hey, are you alright?” Ann asked. She looked over her shoulder quickly. “Did something happen?”

“It’s, uh…“ Ryuji lost his train of thought as he watched a pretty girl tuck her hair behind her ear and give Akira a winning smile. Ryuji’s hand clenched into a fist again of its own accord. He looked at Ann, who was now watching the scene, her lips forming an “o” shape like she now understood what was going on.

“When does Akira get his break?” he asked.

“Well, he hasn’t taken his break today at all,” Ann began. “So he can basically take it whenever.”

“Okay,” Ryuji said, rising to his feet before he could stop himself. His eyes were fixed on Akira and he stepped forward. “I’m gonna steal him for his break now.”

Ryuji was never one to really think before he acted, so before he knew it, he was rushing out of the classroom with his hand gripped firmly around Akira’s wrist. Although Ryuji could hear the sounds of disappointed patrons behind him, Akira hadn’t said a word. Ryuji ignored the students staring at them with raised eyebrows as the two of them shoved through the crowds—he was used to those sorts of looks anyway.

They rounded a corner on the third floor of the practice room before Ryuji finally let go. This area was off-limits to visitors, so there was nobody else around; it was just him, and Akira, looking at him with his head slightly tilted and his brows narrowed. Sure, he looked cute, but it was different. The wig Akira was wearing was suddenly too long and nowhere near dark enough to even mimic the soft, jet black curls of Akira’s hair.

“You okay, dude?” Akira said. The familiarity of his voice brought Ryuji back to the present. Ryuji felt his face warm up as he realized what he did and slapped his hand over his face.

“Ah, hell,” Ryuji said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—I mean… Well…“

“What, is this not your thing after all?” Akira asked, he grabbed the sides of his maid skirt and fanned it out. “I totally thought this was your kind of thing.”

Ryuji rubbed his neck and gritted his teeth. “I mean, it’s not… _not_ my thing…” he mumbled. He was quiet for a long moment and honestly felt the urge to melt into the ground. Akira just patiently waited for Ryuji to finish. Damn that guy and his attentiveness. “I just don’t like that… it’s everyone else’s thing too suddenly,” Ryuji mumbled reluctantly, looking away.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryuji could see Akira’s eyes grow wide in realization, then squint. The corners of his eyes wrinkled and his lips parted in a smile.

“Wh—hey! Don’t laugh at me!” Ryuji said, turning to Akira as he laughed into his fist. Akira never made any sound when he really laughed, but his shoulders shook and his eyes would squint. It was an expression that Ryuji couldn’t help but soften at. Ryuji slouched his shoulders and pouted at him.

Akira waved his hand in front of his face, trying to stifle his laughter. “N-no I’m not laughing at you!” he insisted unconvincingly. “I just didn’t expect you to be the jealous sort.”

“I mean, I’m not really…” Ryuji said, shuffling his feet. “I just didn’t like the way everyone was lookin’ at you.”

Akira stepped closer to him, a sly smile curling on his lips. “I think that’s called ‘being jealous’;” Akira purred.

“Nah, I mean like… It’s just stupid that they’re suddenly so interested in you just because you put on a wig and some makeup, y’know?” Ryuji clicked his tongue, rubbing his neck in frustration. “Most of the time, they’re just too busy being assholes and talkin’ useless shit about you, but—y’know, you look good all the time. It’s just so shallow.”

Akira was quiet for a long while and his smirk softened into a gentle smile. He slid his hand into Ryuji’s. “Good thing I don’t really care what they think,” Akira said, pulling Ryuji close enough that Ryuji could see the individual eyelashes behind Akira’s glasses.

A slyer, sultrier grin suddenly replaced the soft curve of Akira’s smile.

Akira’s tongue quickly darted out—just slightly-- and swiped across his bottom lip. With just the drop of a hat, Akira suddenly made Ryuji go from feeling on edge to being warm all over, fuzzy. Like he was wearing too many clothes—like _Akira_ was wearing too many clothes.

“I care a lot more about what you think,” Akira purred, leaning in so close that Ryuji felt Akira’s breath fan off his lips. “What do _you_ think?”

Ryuji’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his neck and his throat felt dry as he searched for the right words to say. “Hot,” Ryuji finally said, immediately feeling embarrassed as Akira’s eyes squinted in amusement. “I-I think it’s hot—uh, _you’re_ hot.”

Akira laughed, but before Ryuji could argue, Akira suddenly pressed his lips against Ryuji’s in a heated kiss. Ryuji wrapped his arms around Akira’s neck and Akira shoved Ryuji against the wall, barely letting Ryuji breathe as Ryuji felt a pleased growl rise in his throat. Ryuji reached up to run his hand through Akira’s hair just like he always did, almost forgetting that that Akira was wearing a wig. The long curls of the wig fell away and Akira was left with the short, fluffy hair that Ryuji adored.

Akira’s eyes widened a bit as he reached up to feel his head. “Oh, whoops,” he said. “I forgot about that.”

Ryuji looked down at the wig in his hand and then back at Akira, before tossing the wig down next to their feet. “I like this better.”

Somewhere in between Akira throwing himself on Ryuji again and Ryuji’s pants feeling impossibly tight, one of them (Ryuji honestly wasn’t sure who) realized that they were making out passionately in public--during the school festival no less. In a rush, Ryuji located the nearest closet and yanked the door open. The closet was a tight squeeze, but it was pretty appropriate all things considered.

As soon as Ryuji pulled them into the closet, Akira threw his arms around his neck and kissed him with such fervor that Ryuji almost forgot to close the door behind them. Ryuji moaned into his mouth, wrapping his arms around Akira’s waist and grinding their hips together in a desperate need for friction. As Akira’s hands moved up to run through and tug Ryuji’s hair, Ryuji’s hands snaked down Akira’s hips to the ass of Akira’s frilly skirt.

Akira broke their kiss for a moment to breathe and Ryuji could feel Akira’s warm breath on his face. Akira had dropped his weight a tiny bit so he was just below Ryuji’s eye level. Under the dim closet lighting, Ryuji couldn’t help but take in the way Akira looked with his hair slightly more disheveled than usual and his glasses hanging slightly askew. Akira’s lips were red and wet and the little bow that hung around his neck was starting to come loose. Somewhere along the way, maybe while they were rushing over here, Akira had undone the top buttons of his dress so that Ryuji could see the dip of his neck and the line of his collar bone. Akira’s skin was flushed all over and he panted like he was thirsty. It was all just so…

“Hot,” Ryuji found himself saying out loud, his breath heavy. “You are so hot,” he said.

Akira’s lips quirked up in a sly smirk that sent shivers right down Ryuji’s spine and right to his dick.

“You really like this, don’t you?” Akira asked, as he grinded against Ryuji’s hard-on. Even through the pants and the fluffy maid skirt, Ryuji could feel Akira’s own length getting hard against his thigh. Ryuji covered his mouth with his hand to suppress his groans and Akira hummed thoughtfully. “Do you have a maid kink or something? Do you want me to call you ‘Master’?”

At that notion, Ryuji twitched and couldn’t help the loud moan that passed through his lips.

Akira’s grin grew wider and his hands moved down to palm Ryuji through his pants. Akira leaned up so that Ryuji could feel Akira’s breath dance against his ear. “Do you like that, Master?” Akira purred, his voice low and sultry. “Do you want me to help you take care of this, Master?”

“Fuck, Akira—“ Ryuji moaned. He chased Akira’s lips, kissing him just so that he would have a chance to stop Akira from talking and to stop himself from coming right then and there. Pressing himself against Akira, Ryuji backed them against the wall.

Akira let out the most beautiful moan that Ryuji suppressed with his lips and he began to undo the belt on Ryuji’s pants with deft figures.

Ryuji swore under his breath when his cock was finally released from its confines. Akira broke the kiss and dropped to his knees, his hand around Ryuji's dick and giving it a hard stroke.

"Fuck! Oh fuck," Ryuji said as Akira continued to pump the length of his dick. It was going to take every ounce of willpower Ryuji had not to cum right then and there. He looked down and, even in this state of total euphoria, he couldn't help but take a moment to admire the way Akira looked. The dim lighting shone on him in a way that made his eyes look dark and undeniably sexy and Akira's dress pooled around his legs. Akira was looking right at him now, smug smile and all and Ryuji was barely holding on.

Then, Akira licked his lips and that was all the warning Ryuji got before Akira took him into his mouth.

Ryuji covered his mouth in an attempt to muffle his moan. Holy shit, there was _no fucking way_ he was going to last. Not when Akira's mouth enveloped Ryuji's dick with a wet heat that made him squirm. Akira's cheeks hollowed out and bobbed up and down, looking up at Ryuji the whole time. Every once in a while, he'd pop off just to give Ryuji's dick a long and languid lick up the side or swirl his tongue around the tip.

Akira took Ryuji into his mouth again and Ryuji could feel the tip of his cock hitting the back of Akira's throat. Ryuji let out a yelp and his hips bucked forward of what seemed like their own accord. His free hand flew over to the back of Akira's head. He began to tug at Akira's hair, all sense of delicacy lost. God, the one thing Ryuji always knew he could count on was Akira and his lack of a gag reflex.

With each tug at his hair, Akira began to moan around Ryuji's cock and the vibrations sent Ryuji closer and closer to the brink. The smug look that Akira had been wearing had all but disappeared by now and was replaced by one of pure desire. Akira's pupils were dilated and his face was flushed beautifully. With his hands clutching Ryuji's hips, he met every one of Ryuji's thrusts with his own bob forward in a well-matched rhythm.

Ryuji closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the wall to keep himself up, his hips canting forward and his vision going fuzzy at the pure pleasure of it all. It was hard for him to keep quiet when moans of Akira's name spilled through his lips like a desperate prayer. God, he was so damn /close/ and he felt so fucking good.

"Fuck, Akira—I'm gonna—!"

Akira popped off of Ryuji's cock and began pumping him with his hands.

"Come for me, Ryuji," he said, his tone losing its confident edge in his passionate desperation. "O- on my face.” Akira held his mouth open with his tongue lolling out, saliva and precum rolling off the edge. The sight of this combined with the mental image of Akira—beautiful, perfect Akira—sprayed with Ryuji's cum and licking it off his lips was enough for Ryuji to finally give in.

Ryuji let out a loud moan, gripping Akira's hair tight. His vision blacked out and Ryuji saw stars floating in his line of sight as he came in spurts over Akira's poised mouth as Akira continued to pump him through his release. When Ryuji finally came to, he was slumped against the wall, barely supported by the weight of his own legs. His vision was still fuzzy, but it was starting to come into focus and the first thing Ryuji saw was Akira, sitting on his knees with Ryuji’s cum all over his face and hair. For someone covered in semen, he looked really haughty. Akira wiped a drop from his chin and licked it up with his tongue.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked, before a smile curled on his lips. "Master?"

"Oh my god, don't do that—you’re gonna kill me," Ryuji wheezed.

“Actually, that’s pretty appropriate,” Akira said. “Did you know that climaxing is sometimes called ‘le petit mort’ in French? That means—“

“I know what it means,” Ryuji groaned, burying his hands in his face in his embarrassment. He finally squatted in front of Akira, who was laughing. “You’re such a nerd. Makin’ me really rethink repaying the favor.”

“Oh?” Akira said, his expression too innocent for the way his voice sounded. “Are you telling me that you don’t want to get under this skirt?”

Akira lifted the skirt up slightly and Ryuji’s eyes fell down to Akira’s legs immediately. “Uh,” he said, “No. I definitely do.”

Akira laughed and leaned in closer. Ryuji felt himself getting hyped up all over again when they were suddenly interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

“Uh, so,” came the uncomfortable, but familiar sound of Ann’s voice. They heard her clear her throat. “Akira’s break ended, like, five minutes ago… So. If you could both finish up what you’re doing—“

“Aw, shit!” Ryuji swore, suddenly remembering where they were. He tugged his pants back on, trying his best to ignore the really sticky discomfort. “Do we have any paper towels?”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Akira said. “I can just use my sleeve—“

“Akira, you better not use your sleeve or I swear to _god_ —“

“Ann, do you mind? I have cum on my face,” Akira said so blatantly that even Ryuji choked on his spit. After hearing the retreating sounds of Ann making retching noises, Akira ignored her and wiped his face. Ryuji was kind of surprised his makeup didn’t rub off.

Ryuji extended a hand to help Akira up to his feet, helping him pat his skirt straight. The lightbulb flickered and Ryuji was suddenly aware of how dim the lighting was in here and how small the space was with their bodies so close together that it took Ryuji every ounce of will in his body to resist starting all over again.

Instead, he winced. “Sorry, I couldn’t, uh, return the favor. Or something.”

Akira just shrugged, looking so nonchalant that Ryuji would have never guessed that Akira was on his knees a minute ago if it weren’t for all the attention he gave Ryuji. “It’s cool. I figured we’d be cut short anyway—you tend to get kind of loud.”

Ryuji felt the tips of his ears grow hot. “N-no I don’t!” he argued, knowing full well that he was _very_ loud.

Akira just chucked. “If you say so,” he said. “And don’t worry about it. You can always make it up to me.”

Despite his embarrassment, Ryuji found himself smiling. “How’s tonight?”

Akira shot him a smirk that made Ryuji melt right then and there. “Anything for you, Master.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for making it this far!
> 
> If you wanna hmu you can find me at [Twitter](https://twitter.com/kurameowchi) or [Tumblr](http://parasolghost.tumblr.com/)


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